


I Will Not Ask (And Neither Should You)

by Dinosauntor



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: F/F, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, I just want them to be happy, but thankfully Kara is there for her, minus the smut, sometimes depression hits you and you need a friend, that 100th episode holy frijoles, the AU where Lena decides she can't go on, this is all just angst and fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-25
Updated: 2020-02-25
Packaged: 2021-02-28 07:35:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22890058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dinosauntor/pseuds/Dinosauntor
Summary: “What are you talking about?” Kara frowns, the crinkle between her brows deepening. “You know you're the reason that I keep coming back, right? Because I care about—your well-being.”Blue eyes are laser-focused on her face, like Kara can see her thoughts before she voices them, and she chooses her words carefully, shaking her head once before giving in.Damn Kara Danvers for taking over what’s left of her heart.“That's ridiculous. I'm not—” she stumbles on the words. “I'm just me.”---Supergirl has saved Lena Luthor from countless enemies and assassins, each time with a smile. Now, the person trying to destroy Lena is herself—and it’s Kara, not Supergirl, that she needs to save her.
Relationships: Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor
Comments: 10
Kudos: 428





	I Will Not Ask (And Neither Should You)

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, this bad boy just poured out of me after watching the 100th episode. Because I hate seeing Lena in pain, and I love the idea of Kara helping her through it, and I just really wanted to have them be happy together and who cares if she doesn't know about her powers; Kara Danvers is the only one who's ever truly been there for her and loved her and I had to remind myself of that.

Lena honestly doesn’t remember drinking that much. She doesn’t remember much of anything, really, except a cape and a crest and rock hard arms carrying her away from her house.

Of course Supergirl would be the one to find her. That really completed her embarrassment, the news stories she woke up to saying how she was rushed to the hospital by the superhero, the panicked look on the caped woman’s face.

Raising a hand, Lena rubs at her eyes and yawns, the IV pulling at her arm. She feels hungry and nauseous at the same time and the only thing, the only _person_ that might fix her mood is—

“Lena! Oh my god, are you okay?!”

A whirlwind of blonde hair descends upon her bed and Lena feels the tension leave her body.“I’m fine,” she says unconvincingly, giving her friend a weak smile. “It’s nothing.”

“Noth—Lena, they had to pump your stomach! I was there.” 

Her brow furrows as she tries to pull the memories out of the fog, but nothing is forthcoming. “You were?”

“Yeah, I was. There. Af-after you got to the hospital, I mean,” Kara stumbles over her words, her face pulling down in a frown. “I was so worried about you!” 

Anxious blue eyes bore into her own and Lena can’t stop the wave of self-disgust that rises in her.

“I’m sorry you had to see that,” she says quietly. She doesn’t feel _embarrassed_ in front of Kara, but a distinct feeling of shame burrows deep in her heart and aches every time she meets Kara’s eyes.

“Oh, gosh, it’s alright. I mean, with Alex I’ve seen everything and—it’s alright,” Kara finishes lamely, perching on the edge of her bed. 

“That’s why I feel so bad,” Lena mutters, her voice sharp with self-hatred. “I can’t believe I’d put you through something like this, knowing your history with your sister.”

“It’s fine,” Kara says firmly, but her voice is higher than usual. “I’m not made of glass, Lena. I can take it. I’m just glad you’re alright.”

There’s a pause, then Lena’s quiet voice breaks the silence.

“I’m not.”

“Not what?” Kara sounds preoccupied and Lena feels her phone buzz through Kara’s coat pocket. 

_God, she must be swamped trying to run Cat Co. and coordinate with Sam._

“I’m not alright,” she whispers, trying to find the words, but it’s harder with Kara right in front of her full of concern and blue-eyed warmth. How does she explain it? How _can_ she explain it, that this wasn’t an accident, that the second she’s out she’ll try again and this time she better damn well succeed—especially to Kara? Kara, who is always so full of hope and expects the best from people.

Kara, who is the closest thing to family that she has and still doesn’t know how hard it is for her to get up every morning.

“I don’t want to be here, Kara.”

Kara purses her lips, her brow crinkling. “I know you don’t like hospitals, Lena, but you drank _a lot._ There wasn’t really anywhere else to take you.”

“No, you’re not—Kara, listen to me,” Lena says more forcefully. “I _don’t want to be here._ Please, leave me alone.”

Disappointed confusion gives way to understanding and Lena feels her heart break in her chest at the look on Kara’s face, an uncomfortable hollow sound that the EKG registers with an erratic _beep_. She forces herself to look away, unable to bear the intensity in those blue eyes.

“Oh,” the blonde says in a small voice. “I see. Um. I have to—I have to go,” she says quickly, and before Lena can say anything else Kara disappears, leaving her to stare at the empty doorway.

* * *

“Good morning, Lena!”

The happy voice makes her look up from her tablet and Lena’s eyebrows shoot up at the sight of Kara at the foot of her hospital bed. She tries to keep her expression neutral but the heart monitor gives her away, a few rapid beeps before she can get her traitorous body under control.

“I thought about what you said,” the blonde continues, not giving her time to respond, “and I think you should stay with me. After they let you out of here, of course.”

Eyeing her suspiciously, Lena pulls herself up and tosses the tablet onto the blanket with a wince. “What are you talking about?”

“I mean, after you get discharged you’re going to stay with me. At my apartment.” Kara almost falters but her jaw is set with steely determination and her eyes are surprisingly hard. “I really don’t care what you think, because I’m going to prove to you that it’s worth it. Living.”

Lena’s eyes are sad but she gives Kara a small smile, shaking her head. “Kara, I’m fine. Forget what I said.” 

_I can’t put her through anything else. Her parents, her sister, what happened last year with Jeremiah. I can’t stay with her and make her go through that when I—_

“Yeah, no dice Lena. You’re staying with me. I lo _—_ you’re my best friend. I’m not going to leave you on your own.” She almost forgets that’s what they are, _friends,_ but catches herself just in time.

And there’s an unfamiliar challenge in Kara’s tone that makes Lena hesitate, unwilling to do any more damage, but Kara’s voice softens and she can feel her willpower crumbling.

“Please, Lena? Do it for me.”

And how is she supposed to say no to that face? How is she supposed to turn down the only person who has stayed by her side through everything, through the last 3 horrendous years of her life?

She reaches for an excuse, but in the end, can’t find it within her to deny the hopeful expression on Kara’s face.

“Two weeks,” she hears herself say. “Two weeks, and then you leave me alone. Leave me on my own.”

“Sure,” Kara says, too quickly to have properly heard her. “Great! So they said you can go home tomorrow and I’ve already set up the couch so you can have the bed. I’ll come by and get you around noon? I’ve already called us both off work.” She’s suddenly nervous and her feet scuff against the tiled floor. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” she says with a smile, her gaze lingering for a long moment before she disappears.

* * *

Kara pads softly into the living room, her socks quiet against the hardwood floors. She spies Lena curled into the couch and frowns, biting her lip.

It’s been two days and Lena has spent most of them sleeping, partially from exhaustion and partially, Kara suspects, to avoid the difficult conversation that’s been hanging over them since she was discharged. It’s alright because that means she doesn't have to come up with excuses for when Supergirl appears to save the city, but it’s also very much _not_ alright. She knows that Lena isn’t really sleeping, can hear it in her heartbeat and her breathing and how she tosses and turns. 

Sometimes she can hear her crying softly, and she doesn’t need super hearing for that.

And it doesn’t matter that her heart is made of steel, because she can feel it breaking in her chest.

“Come on, Lena,” Kara says to the silent room. “You’re going to have to talk to me at some point.”

Lena doesn’t stir, doesn’t make a single sign that she’s awake or even heard her voice, and Kara huffs, her hands on her hips.

“I guess we’re doing this the hard way.”

She watches Lena not-sleep for a few more minutes, then bustles around the kitchen, not trying to be quiet.

“I’m pretty sure this won’t explode,” she says in a cheery voice as she closes the microwave door. “But who knows?”

“Pretty sure what?” Lena’s muffled voice comes from her pile of blankets, only half-listening because Kara has been trying to coax her out of bed for the last few days. Her shenanigans _have_ been helping Lena’s mood, even making her crack a smile when she waltzes in and hollers “Honey, I’m hoooome!”, but nothing has made her actually get up.

She’s just so _tired._

“Don’t worry, I know what I’m doing. I’m 100% sure this won’t explode.”

“What’s exploding?” Lena’s head pops out of the blankets, her hair messy and her eyes wide, and Kara hides her grin.

“Okay, ninety-two percent. But that’s still a lot,” the blonde adds confidently, hitting the ‘start’ button.

“Kara, what are you microwaving?” Lena’s warning tone gets louder as she stands, the blankets piling on the couch, alarm written across her face. “Kara!”

Lena is too busy wrenching open the microwave and yanking out the can of soup to see Kara smiling behind her hands.

“You could’ve killed us!” the brunette says, her voice high with stress. “I swear, sometimes I think you’re from another planet. Everyone knows not to microwave metal.”

“Right,” Kara says, her eyes flicking away from Lena’s face. “Anyway, now that you’re up, what do you want to do?” Her eagerness is palpable and Lena tries not to give in to the adorable grin she turns on her.

Because she knows why she’s been hiding herself away from the world. Because it’s that exact smile that’s enough to make her want to _try_ again, and she doesn’t know if she has it in her.

“I want to not die because someone microwaved metal,” Lena grumbles, unable to stop a yawn from escaping her lips. Stretching her arms above her head, she doesn’t see Kara flush but she feels the air conditioning hit the strip of stomach between her pyjama pants and Kara’s sweatshirt.

“Well, that’s a start. Wanting to not die.” Kara’s soft tone hints at something else, something neither of them are willing to say, and Lena’s face blanks at the undertones in her voice.

“I don’t want to talk about this, Kara,” she says firmly, mustering all the seriousness she can, but Kara plows on, taking a step closer.

“Lena. Listen to me,” she says earnestly, blue eyes wide and as readable as an open book to Lena. She knows those eyes, knows exactly what the blonde is going to say, and knows that all the Luthor genes in the world won’t be able to hide her reaction.

“I know you haven’t been yourself lately. _Listen,_ ” Kara repeats, grabbing Lena’s wrist when the other woman tries to step away. “You mean so much to me, you have no idea. _Please,_ let me help.”

She feels herself almost give in, but the sadness in Kara’s expression reminds her why she can’t go along with the blonde’s plans. Why she can’t allow herself to be another source of pain for her best friend.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Lena whispers, her eyes dark. 

“What?” Kara shakes her head, every part of her aching to help the broken woman standing in her living room. “Hurt me? You’ve never hurt me. _Ever_.”

“Kara, please. I can’t talk about this right now.” Her voice cracks slightly, emotion making her throat feel thick and coated.

Sensing that she can’t push Lena any further, Kara rubs at her eyes with a tired hand. “If I stop asking, will you promise to do something for me?”

“Anything,” Lena says quickly, grateful for the escape.

“Promise you’ll sleep in my bed? The couch was meant for me, not you.”

A wave of self-consciousness comes over Lena and she swallows, trying to think of a way out. She starts slowly, gaining more speed the longer she avoids Kara’s gaze.

“I’m not going to kick you out of your own bed, Kara. I might not even be here for two weeks. And I don’t want to impose on you. I’ve already invaded your flat.”

“You’re not imposing, I want you! To—to take the bed, that is.” Kara is nodding more emphatically than the situation calls for and she backs up, softening her voice. “Really, Lena. If it’s that big a deal, I’ll sleep in the bed too. It’s big enough.” Hiding her secret delight, she settles for a cheery smile, waiting for Lena’s response.

Lena’s eyebrows meet and she blinks away the vaguely inappropriate thought that suddenly pokes at her brain. “Really?”

“Yeah, it’s a full size mattress, we’ll definitely both fit! Besides, what are friends for?” Kara chirps, already pulling the sheets off the couch. There’s a spring in her step and Lena rolls her eyes at her infinite optimism.

“Not what I meant,” Lena mutters, unable to stop herself from watching Kara walk away. Even disagreeing with Lena, her friend still manages to pull her out of her worst moods. It’s like Kara has some sort of magical sixth sense, one that knows when she starts shutting down and tells the blonde exactly what to say to take Lena’s mind off the darkness.

There’s only so much Kara can do, though, and later that night neither of them can deny the awkwardness that comes from Lena standing at the foot of the bed, anticipation fluttering in her stomach—anticipation for what, she doesn’t know, but she has a sinking suspicion it has something to do with Kara.

Kara, who gives her a half smile, breaks the tension, and pulls back the corner of the quilt to pat the mattress next to her.

“Are you sure about this?” Lena says again, eliciting a snort from Kara.

“Yes, Lena. For the thousandth time, yes.” Her voice drops. “You’ll be fine. I’m right here.”

 _That’s the problem,_ Lena berates herself as she sits down tentatively. _You’re_ ** _right here._** _You’re right here and I have nightmares that keep me up and terrible thoughts that rip at my heart, but I can’t bear to worry you any more than I already have._

They lie down, each staring at their respective sections of ceiling, and Lena doesn’t move until Kara switches off the lamp and starts to snore softly, her mouth slightly open, glasses still on her face. The frames glint in the light from the street lamp outside and Lena reaches over and sets them on the bedside table, a sad smile on her face.

On the edge of sleep, Kara turns on her side and Lena freezes, holding her breath. The blonde just snuffles slightly and Lena’s heart clenches at the adorable sound, but she forces herself to turn her back to Kara, lying on her side and listening to her pounding heart.

A second later her heart nearly jumps out of her chest because Kara flings an arm over her side. Afraid to move and wake her, Lena swallows, shifting her head to a slightly more comfortable position and steeling herself for a night of exhaustion. Feeling an itch building in her throat, she coughs as quietly as she can, her senses going in overdrive at the sensation of Kara’s arm resting against her ribs.

She can't get the words out; _I want to die._ Short, simple words that her best friend understands, though maybe not in that order. 

Maybe not from Lena Luthor's mouth.

Her throat closes, an airtight fortress that reduces her attempt at honesty to shoulder-shaking sobs, her lips pressed together in a pitiful attempt to keep from waking Kara.

Somehow, even unconscious, Kara senses her unease.

The blonde murmurs in her sleep and wraps her arm around Lena’s stomach, pulling and squirming until Lena’s back is against her chest. The heat radiating off her burns through both of their shirts and it feels like Lena is resting against a furnace molded to her back, and slowly, gradually, her sobs peter out and she gasps for air against the heat of Kara's skin. It’s infinitely more comfortable than what she’s used to and her brain finally slows down its incessant grinding. Carefully, as carefully as she can, she lowers her arm, her hand resting atop Kara’s.

She sees through blurry eyes that it's shaking slightly, and swallows, subconsciously relaxing into Kara's front as a broken gasp makes its way through her chest.

It feels nice, and secure, and like she’s finally comfortable in her own skin. It feels strangely familiar, and she’s apprehensive and afraid to put words to it.

Telling herself she just needs to rest her eyes for a moment, she doesn’t notice her blinks growing longer and longer, the mix of warmth and a soft bed and the closeness of Kara’s body lulling her into a deep sleep before she realizes it’s happening.

The morning chill wakes her and she discovers, to her disappointment, that Kara has already gotten up. The bed doesn’t feel the same without her in it and Lena stretches, her sore limbs finding the empty mattress, noting with a mix of confusion and relief that she finally slept all the way through the night. In fact, she feels more rested than she has in weeks.

“Lena? Are you up?” Kara’s voice comes from the kitchen along with the smell of baking and Lena’s heart skips in her chest.

“Lena?” Kara calls again, hearing the stutter in her heartbeat. “Everything okay?”

Wanting to avoid any kind of conversation, especially one about last night—if there’s even a conversation to be had—Lena rolls over and closes her eyes, slowing her breathing to an acceptable rate by the time Kara walks into her bedroom.

“Huh.” The blonde sounds confused, but she shrugs good-naturedly. “Guess you weren’t awake. I was going to tell you—”

A phone ringing in the next room cuts her off and Lena is thankful for the distraction. Any longer and she would’ve given in to Kara’s cheerfulness, the smell of breakfast and the temptation to a morning in with her best friend.

“Kara Danvers. Oh, hey Alex. No, but Lena’s still asleep...Give me a few minutes and I’ll be right there.”

Lena keeps her eyes firmly shut but she can sense Kara bending over her and it takes every ounce of self-control not to flinch in surprise when a hand brushes her hair behind her ear.

“I’ll be right back,” Kara whispers, her breath ghosting across Lena’s cheek. “There’s breakfast in the kitchen for you.”

There’s a beat of silence, then, surprising the both of them, Kara leans forward and presses her lips to Lena’s forehead. It’s sweet and short-lived, then a draft blows through the room and when Lena snaps her eyes open, Kara is gone.

When she finally emerges into the now-empty kitchen, she lets out a bone-weary sigh. It's exhausting, keeping up a facade in front of Kara, and she feels like Kara can see through it anyway. At the very least, she can tell when Lena is lying to her, even if she doesn't know what she's hiding, and it just adds to the weight of it all.

Because Kara should be the one person she can confide in, because she trusts her with her life, but somehow it's _too hard_ to get the words out. It's _unimaginable_ that she slams her best friend with her own self-hatred. Why take her down with her?

Some small part of Lena's brain that has been slowly waking since they met screams at her that she _deserves_ to not be alone, she _deserves_ to let someone else shoulder the burden, but the other parts of her mind scream louder.

They scream that she has to protect Kara, that she shouldn't bother her, that her pain is unmanageable so why bother forcing someone else to experience it?

And the fact that Kara's response would be nothing short of motherly, sisterly love only makes it worse. Because there are only two options; either she breaks down entirely in front of her friend and loses her respect, or she tries to shut her out (which is the more likely) and ruins their relationship that way.

Either way, she silently counts the days until two weeks are up and clinging to the scraps of Kara that surround her, trying to keep her head above the waves. She's never been good with being alone, but she's also never been much good with keeping people around, and sitting at Kara's breakfast table eating a slightly burned pancake is an exercise in emotional control that takes all of her concentration.

* * *

“Kara?”

“Lena! Where did you go? I came back and you were gone!” Kara is frantic, her hands running through her hair as she paces her apartment.

“I went home,” Lena says slowly, already knowing the response before it squawks across the phone.

“ _Home?_ Why? Did something happen?” Kara’s voice is panicky and higher than usual. “Are you okay? Is it me, is it my room? I know it’s small but I thought the bed was fine—I told you not to sleep on the couch and—”

“Kara, take a breath. I’m alright, I just...I just wanted to go home,” Lena rushes to assure her, hoping she’s doing a good job of disguising the emptiness she feels. “There’s nothing wrong with the apartment. You are an absolute angel for letting me stay, and I appreciate it. Truly.”

Kara’s feet stop and she peers out her window, sliding down her glasses to see Lena sitting at her kitchen table.

“Then why did you leave?” She doesn’t mean to sound whiny but she was just getting used to Lena living with her and the sudden absence is more noticeable than she liked to admit.

“It’s hard to explain. I’ll call you tomorrow?” Lena offers. “I promise.” She knows Kara can’t pass up on a promise, and this one, at least, she can hold.

With a small sigh, Kara nods. “Talk to you soon,” she agrees, hanging up the phone. With nothing else to do, she heads back to work and counts down the hours until she can leave, not really listening to anything anyone says. She can see Lena slowly sipping from a glass and reading over spreadsheets and her concern distracts her, but thankfully, Lena is taking it slow and stops after her second glass.

All too touchy on the subject of drinking, Kara wars with herself the whole way home, muttering to herself as she walks down the street.

_Stop watching her. It’s not fair, she left your apartment for some privacy. Don’t keep spying on her._

_But I have to check on her..._

Lena is barely tipsy when a knock comes at the door, startling her away from her work. Wondering who could be on her doorstep at this hour, she palms a heavy candlestick on her way to the foyer, her socks silent on the wooden floor.

“Lena?” Kara knocks again, pulling her purse strap up. “Come on, it’s me, open up.”

The door swings open and Lena stands there blinking owlishly. “Kara, what are you doing here?”

Kara grins, lighting up the doorway. “I came to see you. I missed you,” she says with a shrug, pulling Lena into a hug. Her eyes flick down to the candlestick and she shoots her a questioning look, a confused smile on her lips.

“Can’t be too careful,” Lena shrugs, setting it down by the door. “Do you want to come in?” The reluctance is clear in her voice and they both hear it, lapsing into an awkward silence.

It’s clear that Lena wants to be on her own, but Kara can’t let her retreat just yet. Not until she knows her friend is alright, not until she knows she’s safe.

“Only if you want,” Kara says generously, hanging back, her eyes raking over Lena’s body and checking for something, anything out of place. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay. And…”

“And?”

“And I...kind of got used to you living with me,” the blonde says in a shy voice. “It was just weird to come home to an empty apartment, that’s all. It didn’t feel right, ending the day without seeing you.”

The words rest on Lena’s chest with a heavy weight, making it a little harder to breathe. She can’t explain it to Kara, how sleeping in her arms was the closest she’s felt to home in a long time, that she’s afraid if she lets herself give in one more time she may never be able to sleep on her own again.

“It’s sweet of you to drop by,” she says slowly, aware that she’s crushing the blonde’s hopeful look. “But I think I need to be by myself for a while. I’ll call you?”

“Oh. Um, right. Sure,” Kara says, her eyes dimming instantly. “No problem.” The sting of rejection makes her cheeks burn but she forces her face to stay neutral, not wanting to upset her friend.

“I’m sorry,” Lena says quietly, opening her arms for another hug. “Just give me some time.”

“You don’t ever have to apologize to me,” Kara says with a sniffle, her arms tightening around Lena. When she steps back, she hesitates, then plants a soft kiss on Lena’s cheek.

Her skin burns where Kara kissed her, and Lena stands in the doorway long after she’s turned away and walked back to her car.

* * *

Every day Kara comes knocking, and every day Lena forces herself to stay inside, keeping the door locked against the stubborn blonde trying to tug her heart open. She sends her away with a text, sometimes from the other side of the door, her hand on the knob. The effort that Kara puts into it, her useless visits, coming before work, during the day, and again when she leaves the office, makes Lena want to cry.

There’s just something about it, the heavy emptiness inside her that gets heavier and heavier every time she hears Kara walk away, every time she makes her leave, that pulls her deeper and deeper. The fact that her friend is so earnest, so caring, while Lena just sends her away and dismisses her, makes her throat close up and sometimes she cries herself to sleep, only holding on because she promised Kara. Two weeks.

Kara hears every time Lena curls up under her blankets, a hand over her mouth to stifle the sobs. It breaks her heart and sometimes she makes multiple trips a day, afraid to leave her on her own too long, and it comforts her to be closer to the lonely woman. Why Lena won’t just let her in, she doesn’t quite understand, but as long as she’s still responding to her she doesn’t know how much further she can push.

How much harder, until the marble statue that is her best friend finally shatters, the cracks that have been forming since the day she was born finally winning against her steadfast resolve.

A week in, Lena breaks, coming to the door to tell her off one last time.

“Kara, you don’t have to keep coming back here,” she says, starting off strong but already crumbling at the sight of her friend. “You don’t have to go out of your way.”

“I don’t mind,” Kara says with a smile, glad to see that Lena is up and moving. She’s kept her promise to herself that she wouldn’t watch her friend, just listening for her heartbeat when she goes to bed, but the tangible absence of _Lena_ in her life is taking a mental toll.

“I don’t know why you care so much,” Lena mumbles, turning away from the doorway, a defeated look in her eyes. 

“Sure, you don’t know,” Kara snorts, her frustration getting the better of her. Her face softens with regret and she lets out a sad sigh, her lips pursing. “I’m here for you, anything you need. Always.”

Sensing that this time Kara won’t be easily deterred, Lena’s jaw flexes in an attempt to keep her tears at bay. “I wish you wouldn’t be,” she says firmly, her eyes devoid of emotion.

“What are you talking about?” Kara frowns, the crinkle between her brows deepening. “You know you're the reason that I keep coming back, right? Because I care about—your well-being.”

Blue eyes are laser-focused on her face, like Kara can see her thoughts before she voices them, and she chooses her words carefully, shaking her head once before giving in.

Damn Kara Danvers for taking over what’s left of her heart.

“That's ridiculous. I'm not—” she stumbles on the words. “I'm just me.”

Kara squeezes her eyes shut and lets out a slow breath through her nose, anger starting to roil in the pits of her stomach.

“We talked about this, Lena. Two weeks. You said you'd give me two weeks.”

Another small, impossibly sad shake of her head. “I can't, Kara.” Her voice breaks on the name. “I can't.”

“Why the hell not?”

Her voice drops even more and her eyes follow; she can't look Kara in the eye, she can't even look at her face, at the beautiful, painfully concerned expression that Lena knows will be there.

“I just can't,” she whispers, pleading silently with Kara to drop the subject. “It's already hard enough.”

Thinking that she's made some sudden progress, Kara steps forward to rest a hand on Lena's shoulder. “If it's so hard then just stay with me. It would be so easy,” she says hopefully, her eyes wide and blue and pulling at Lena like a million hooks. “Come on, Lena. You're halfway there, don't give up on me now.”

The ice in her heart thaws just enough for her to answer and she lowers her defenses just enough for something to slip out, but not enough for Kara to get in.

“Not you,” she mumbles.

There are moments when even Kara isn’t strong enough to shed light on the darkness inside of her, and right now is one of them. Right now, she doesn’t have the strength to hide it, too physically and emotionally exhausted to present the calm persona she’s spent years perfecting.

Right now, she’s at the end of her rope.

“What?”

“Not you,” she says a little louder. “It's me. It's too hard.”

The clarification makes Kara's stomach drop, makes her throat prickle with tears and she forces them down. “What are you talking about?” she says again, trying desperately to pretend that Lena isn’t saying what she thinks she is.

“I'm just tired,” Lena dismisses her, shaking her head again. “I'm just so tired, Kara, please, _please_ stop. Just let me go.” She can't help but think it's a touch dramatic, the phrase 'let me go' has been overused and over-simplified so many times, but it seems appropriate now. Kara is a tether that won't let go, she's pulling her back down to earth and all she wants to do is float away. She wants to disappear, to become nothing, to be allowed to shrivel up and die and for some reason, the frustrating blonde giving her a puppy dog pout won't let her. 

With one last pained look at Lena’s crossed arms and impenetrable stance, Kara steps back.

“I’m not giving up on you, Lena. I don’t care that everyone else has. You’re not going to lose me too.”

* * *

One night, Kara gets home after her routine knocking on Lena’s door and sits down on the edge of her bed, tugging off her blouse. She doesn’t know how much more of this she can take, this feeling useless, and she doesn’t understand why. She can fly, can lift entire buildings, she can run a marathon in under 30 seconds, but she still can’t get Lena to let her in.

She loves her so much it’s unbearable at times but as long as Lena stays her best friend she tells herself that it’s enough. It’s not, and she knows it can’t last, and the idea that Lena could be ripped away from her forever eats at her heart as she lies down, staring at the empty pillow beside her with unseeing eyes.

A few hours later her phone rings on the nightstand, jerking her out of a restless sleep. The caller ID glares at her from the brightness of the screen and she scrambles to answer it, instantly awake.

“Lena, what’s wrong?”

There’s silence, then a quiet sniffle that tugs at her heart.

_“Lena?!”_

“I can’t sleep.” Lena’s voice is hoarse like she’s been crying and Kara starts to throw on sweatpants, holding the phone between her ear and shoulder.

“What happened?”

Her voice is childlike over the phone, uttering words she hasn’t said since she was five and wandered into Lex’s room after a particularly bad dream. “Can I stay with you?”

Kara is breathless with relief at the sound of her voice, not caring who sees her as she flies out of her apartment window. A minute later she knocks at Lena’s door, already forming an excuse—she was parked outside, she was just driving by, she was coming to drop something off—but the door swings open and her words die in her throat.

This time, it’s an entirely different Lena that greets her. The CEO usually holds herself proudly, chin high and shoulders back, perfectly coiffed. This Lena is smaller, sadder, her body curling in on itself. Her eyes are bloodshot and a dim green like dusty marbles, and Kara frowns at the bags under her eyes, shadows and a gaunt appearance making her look like a ghost. She’s thinner, clearly hasn’t been taking care of herself, and her MIT sweatshirt hangs off her like it’s several sizes too big.

“Oh, Lena,” Kara sighs, her heart wrenching painfully in her chest. She rushes forward to envelope the other woman in a hug. Lena stumbles, then folds at her touch and Kara reacts instinctively, sweeping her legs up until she’s carrying her bridal style, kicking the door closed behind her.Lena buries her face in the warmth of Kara’s neck and wraps her arms around her, melting into her side. Opening the door to her bedroom, Kara sets her down gently, concern flashing across her face.

“Lena,” Kara starts, worry making her voice crack. “I—”

“Will you hold me?”

The request startles the blonde into speechlessness and she pauses, hands hanging at her sides. She stands over Lena, her eyes an unreadable stormy blue, then nods slowly.

“Okay. Okay, let’s get you to bed,” she says in a soft voice. Without waiting for a response, she slides herself under the blankets next to Lena and cradles her, Lena’s head resting against her shoulder.

Her voice isn’t working but Lena feels tears of gratitude slip down her cheeks and splash against Kara’s chest. Thankfully, the blonde doesn’t say anything, just holds her tighter, only speaking when she notices Lena shiver.

“Are you cold?”

Lena nods against her shoulder, burrowing deeper into Kara’s side. The weight of Kara’s arms disappears suddenly but before Lena can protest, warm hands are wrapping themselves around her back and legs are tangling with hers, giving off a familiar heat. A quick glance shows Kara, having shed her clothes, wearing just a sports bra and shorts and using her body heat to warm up the bed.

“I’m sorry you have to put up with me,” she says quietly, the self-loathing dripping off her voice.

Kara’s abs tense against her as the blonde sits up, indignation written across her features. “Don’t say things like that,” she huffs, propping herself up with an arm. “Jesus, Lena. Sometimes you really scare me, you know?”

It goes unspoken that Kara is more afraid of losing her than Lena is. That she’s more afraid of what Lena is capable of doing to herself than any assassin, because no one hates Lena Luthor quite like Lena Luthor.

“I don’t mean to.” The apology is barely audible and Kara has to lean in close to catch it. “I’m sorry. I just feel so empty sometimes. Like it wouldn’t matter if I disappeared.”

The blonde’s face softens and her hands cup Lena’s face, a frown pulling the corners of her lips down.

“It would matter to me,” she says in a heavy tone. Her eyes are glimmering with unshed tears and before Lena can react, she kisses her.

It only lasts a second, but Kara’s lips send a static shock through hers and rewire her brain. Then the blonde is pulling away and looking her straight in the eyes, her hands smoothing out the worried creases in Lena’s skin.

“Breathe,” Kara says in a soothing voice, lying back down, wrapping her arms around Lena and rubbing her back as though nothing happened.

As though she didn’t just flip Lena’s world on its head, bulldozing through a dozen walls the Luthor has put up over the years like they’re made of paper.

Her brain is too tired and too sad to come up with anything smart to say—she doesn’t even mean to say it but Kara is so warm and comforting and her heart hurts so much that the whisper escapes her before she can stop herself.

“I love you.”

Kara, wide awake, holds her breath at the whispered admission.

Because there’s _no way_ that this is how it plays out. The scenario where she kisses Lena, where she tells her she loves her, that she’s been in love with her for the past three years, that she’s imagined and dreams thousands upon thousands of times, happens _right now_ , like _this._

“I love you, too,” she says finally, her voice loud in the empty space.

Lena tenses, anxiety rushing through her veins. “I meant as a friend,” she backtracks quickly, too afraid to sit up and shatter the fever dream that is the last few seconds of her life. Too afraid to push Kara away and show her how weak and vulnerable she really is, that she isn’t worthy of her friendship let alone anything _more_.

No, she can’t let herself go down that path of thinking, because it’s the only thing that is powerful enough to bring her to her knees, and she’s already on the ground.

“Well I didn’t,” Kara says clearly, emboldened by the dark, “and you know that. And that’s why you’ve been pushing me away.”

“It’s because—”

“I know you, Lena. You’re afraid you’ll start to trust me and that I’ll betray you, or abandon you, or do something horrible. But I’m here,” she says firmly, her hands rubbing a circle on Lena’s back. “I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

The weight of the darkness presses down on them, making it hard for her to breathe.

“Promise?” Lena asks in a sad voice, and Kara presses their foreheads together.

“I promise.”

It’s not enough. They can both hear the desperate desire to believe her, to believe _in_ her, but Kara can feel the doubt that tenses the brunette’s shoulders and it scrapes at her heart like sandpaper.

“Listen.” She squirms around until Lena’s head rests against her chest, a cold ear pressed directly above her heart. “Hear that?”

A sad noise of affirmation echoes in the dark and Kara closes her eyes as Lena’s hands fist in her shirt.

“Just focus on that,” Kara soothes, trying to slow her breathing. She can tell her heart is pounding a little harder than usual, but it has more to do with the heaviness of the moment than Lena’s arms around her and the taste of her on her lips.

At least, that’s what she tells herself.

“Thank you,” Lena mumbles into Kara’s chest, and she can hear the tears in her exhausted voice.

“Get some sleep, Lena. I’ll be here in the morning.”

Lena clings to her like a life raft and tries not to overthink the words “I love you”, her pulse thundering through her veins. It takes several minutes but she manages to calm her breathing, her exhausted muscles relaxing against the heat of Kara’s body.

Finally, finally, she sighs and Kara can feel her individual muscles relaxing, losing some of their infinite tension as she lets herself slump against the blonde.

Her brain plays the words over and over until she falls asleep, wondering what will happen when she wakes up.

* * *

When Lena opens her eyes the next morning, she knows it’s late. Her body feels rested, her mind is much clearer than it was last night, and the sun streaming in and hitting the side of her face is annoyingly bright, even through her curtains. Raising a hand to rub at her eyes, she stretches her neck, then freezes as the mattress underneath her _moves._

Then _yawns._

“Good morning.”

Kara is looking up at her, a goofy grin on her face, and Lena stares. She’s never seen Kara when she wakes up, always used to the perky blonde at 110% like she’s had 4 cups of coffee, and it’s disconcerting and endearing all at once.

Her eyes are still half-closed from sleep and the crinkle between her eyebrows is smoothed out. Blonde hair is fanned out against the pillow, blinding gold in the sunlight, and Lena swallows.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you,” she mutters self-consciously, starting to shift her weight. 

Kara’s dopey grin widens and her arms come up to trap Lena, hugging her to her chest. “Don’t go. I like it,” she murmurs sleepily. Sometime in the night Lena kicked away the blanket and the difference between the cold air and the burn of Kara’s skin shocks her awake.

Now doubly self-conscious, Lena’s heart pounds against her rib cage and she wonders if Kara can feel it. “You do?”

“Yeah, you’re like one of those weighted blankets.” Her smile softens from overt to merely adorable and Lena doesn’t know what to say. They lie there staring at each other until Lena’s eyes widen at the sound of her own stomach grumbling.

Kara breaks the silence with a laugh, the vibration echoing through Lena’s chest. “I take it you want breakfast?” Kissing her forehead, Kara rolls sideways and deposits Lena on her side of the bed with another yawn. She stands with a groan, stretching out her body as her feet hit the floor, and Lena has to forcibly tear her eyes away from the muscles rippling underneath the tanned skin.

“Ice cream or cereal?”

A genuine burst of laughter escapes Lena’s mouth and she cuts it off prematurely, afraid of the light feeling in her chest, afraid it will sink back down the second she’s alone again. The second Kara disappears from view.

She always feels lighter when she’s with Kara.

“Whatever you want,” she says, the pain in her chest loosening slightly. “Whatever you want.”

They stay like that for another few days, in an odd limbo world where they have no responsibilities except to live next to each other. It’s easy to live with Kara; she never complains, somehow always gets the chores done in record time, and against her better judgement Lena feels herself start to be swept away by the lull of security Kara brings to her house.

The two week mark passes, then three, and Lena slowly starts to rejoin the land of the living, occasionally going on food shops or gym runs. She slowly goes back to work, ignoring the whispers and side glances people throw her, the only thing keeping her going being the promise of Kara when the day is over.

The tabloids are splattered with two things: photos of her and Kara, often arm in arm— ever since she found out that Kara enjoys physical contact, she makes sure they’re connected in some way when they’re together—and photos of Supergirl, who seems to be everywhere all at once. There’s no rise in crime but the super heroine seems to be on a charitable kick, fetching cats from trees, putting out fires, and helping with construction sites.

There’s also no end to the theories behind Lena’s disappearance. The majority of them have to do with rehab, some with a secret lover, and as always, there’s a few stragglers still on the idea of a Lena-Luthor-planned world domination.

But it doesn’t matter because through it all, right by her side, is Kara. Steadfast, lovable Kara who lights up her life like her own personal sun and makes sure she’s never alone, always there when Lena needs her the most. 

Sometimes she doesn’t even need to call, sometimes Kara just shows up in the middle of her workday and smiles in her very _Kara_ way and it’s all Lena can do to not melt into her arms and cry until she comes apart, her emotions spilling out of her in an unstoppable babbling.

On one of those days, Kara finds her halfway through a glass of scotch and staring through the window at her view of the city.

“Hey, Lee.” Her usual greeting paired with a bag of donuts is enough to distract the CEO, but not enough to dry her eyes, and Kara’s face visibly tightens with immediate concern.

“What’s wrong?”

Lena just shakes her head, suddenly unable to bear the unending sympathy from her friend. Unable to complain yet again about her mother because it seems to be all they talk about, about how horrible she makes her feel, about how everything leads back to her, about how even a short voice message can ruin her entire day.

Lena Luthor, CEO of L-Corp and one of the smartest women on the planet, susceptible to a 36-second voicemail.

If only Lex could see her now.

She lets out a bark of laughter, more harsh than sad, and Kara’s frown deepens as she inches closer to the broken-looking woman. She drops to her knees, places a hand on Lena’s thigh, and looks up into red-rimmed, haunted green eyes.

“Lena,” she says in a careful tone, that peculiar expression on her face that makes Lena want to tell her everything already in full-force. “What aren’t you telling me?”

And Lena, instead of retreating, raises her eyes to the bright ceiling lights to blink away her unshed tears and tries to explain. She tries to explain to her closest friend in the entire world that sometimes she just can’t manage, that sometimes it’s all just too much; the media, the pressure, the expectations, it all culminates until she can’t bear it and she wants to scream, wants to claw her way out of her own skin and destroy the persona that is Lena Luthor.

What comes out instead is a teary, five-word question that sounds like a child whining at a grocery store, because inside she really is just a hurt little girl that never got enough love.

A hurt little girl that’s only just started flourishing under Kara’s unceasing care and incessant companionship, that can still be beaten down and doesn’t quite know what to do besides force her way through life, keeping any and all potential emotions at bay until the day they grow too strong for her to contain.

“Why is she so mean?”

Her voice splinters and her knuckles whiten in an attempt to contain the whirlwind inside her, but tears form in her eyes.

Lena is folding in on herself in front of Kara, her hands shaking so much that the glass is threatening to spill over, and Kara’s heart cracks. She knows what someone on the edge of a break down looks like, has felt it herself right before Alex’s arms were around her and her whispers of love were in her ear. This is the crucial moment. This is the moment where Lena Luthor decides she’s too alone to go on, where she decides that it’s easier to just stop existing all together.

Well, not if Kara Danvers has a damn thing to say about it.

In the end, she doesn’t have to say anything at all. She sets the glass aside and stands, sliding her arms under Lena’s and carrying her over to the couch while Lena clings to her front like a koala, legs wrapping around her waist.

She thinks nothing of the way Kara whispers “I love you” when she sits down, Lena still wrapped around her. Thinks nothing of the way Kara kisses her lightly as warm thumbs wipe away the tears that have started to fall down her cheeks.

Because to someone as deprived of love as Lena Luthor, she has no idea what it looks like. All she knew was pain and loneliness until Kara walked into her office, and since then she’s held on to every scrap of affection the blonde has given her, reliving the memories until they become old and faded like a photograph folded too many times.

Kara can sense the tornado whipping around inside her and has been watching her glassy eyes with something bordering on despair. If it was anyone but Lena, if she was anyone but Supergirl, she would have called the hospital by now.

But she can see that Lena hasn’t taken anything. She can see that the only thing wrong with Lena is that she’s just so incredibly sad, and somehow that hits her harder than if she’d swallowed a bottle of pills.

“I’m here.” The words don’t ask for a response, but Lena nods anyway, her jaw locked too tightly for her to speak.

“I’m here,” Kara emphasizes with a kiss to her forehead, her own eyes starting to water.

She has to say _something_ before Kara freaks out. She has to at least reassure her that it’s not like last time, that it’s just one bad day in a long string of bad days but she can handle it. Because that’s what she’s trained herself to do, because there isn’t really another option, because she’s Lena _Luthor._

“I’m okay,” she manages to get out, her throat thick with tears. “I’m okay.”

It doesn’t sound believable, and god bless Kara for recognizing the truth in her words because if she didn’t force her to confront her feelings _right now_ , Lena might implode the second she leaves.

She knows intrinsically that Kara would _never_ leave her alone, not when she’s like this, but it still pokes at the back of her brain that she could abandon her. That she could end up right where she started, alone and picking up her own pieces, with no one else to turn to for help.

And it’s a testament to how much time they’ve spent together recently because Kara reads the words in the look in her eyes and the tendons of her neck and lets out a sigh that encompasses everything she could have said to her.

“Lena, there is nothing you can do to make me leave. _Nothing.”_

A fragment of a sob forces its way out and she collapses against Kara’s chest, staining the blonde’s collar with her tears in seconds.

“How is it you always know what to say to make me feel better?” she whispers against Kara’s collarbone, her heart throbbing in her chest.

“Because I know everything,” Kara says smartly, her hands still massaging Lena’s back, and despite herself, Lena chuckles.

Trust Kara Danvers to pull a laugh from the depths of hell. No one but Kara Danvers could get even a smile out of her right now.

No one but Kara Danvers has ever been there for her like this.

“I really love you,” Lena whispers, her lips brushing Kara’s neck. “I appreciate you so much more than you know.”

Kara pulls away, blue eyes sparkling in a way that makes the ghost of a smile trace Lena’s lips. “Oh, I think I know,” she says with false smugness, then hugs her close. “I know,” she repeats, softer this time, her arms circling Lena like she’s trying to hold her together before she can break apart. 

* * *

A pattern develops; they spend more of the day apart with Lena at L-Corp and Kara at Cat Co., but every night without fail Kara comes knocking at her door, her sunny demeanor always there to chase away her nightmares. Lena eventually gives her a set of keys, her heart jumping in her chest at the look in Kara’s eyes when she hands her the jangling ring.

“Are you asking me to move in with you?” Kara winks, making Lena blush.

“No!” she says hotly, crossing her arms. “I’m just tired of walking to the door every time you bang on it.” She tosses the keys in the air without looking, a flush creeping up her neck.

Because maybe she wishes she _was_ asking her to move in with her.

“I’m kidding. It’s about time.” Kara deftly snatches them from midair, her other hand winding their fingers together like she always does when they’re at home. Except this time they’re at work and Lena flushes a deeper red and Kara, always tuned to her like a radio station, pockets the keys and takes a step closer.

“Hey. Is everything okay?”

Nodding wordlessly, Lena looks up at her.

“You’re holding my hand,” she says stupidly, her eyebrows raised.

“Yeah,” Kara shrugs. “So?” She’s waiting for some sort of explanation for Lena’s strange behaviour and concern darkens her eyes.

“We’re at work,” Lena says pointedly, stepping back, but Kara just tightens her grip, a confused look crossing her face.

“I mean, yeah. But who cares? Girlfriends are allowed to hold hands,” she declares, and Lena’s mind blanks.

“You—what?”

Kara drops Lena’s hand like it’s burned her, taking a step back, and the uneasy expression that replaces her smile makes it feel like miles instead of feet that separate them. “Oh. Okay, I thought...I guess we’re on totally different pages.” She looks crushed and a bit confused, and Lena tries to understand.

“Girlfriends?” Nervous anticipation twists her gut and Lena swallows, her throat working with emotion.

“What did you think this was?” Kara frowns, a slightly defensive tone entering her voice. “I sleep in your bed with you. _Every_ _night_.”

“Yes, but I—”

“Lena, you kiss me when we’re going to bed.”

“Barely! And it’s because I’m just so thankful you’re—”

Kara throws her hands up, blonde curls bouncing on her shoulder, and Lena, sensing an impending fight, visibly tenses at her exasperation.

“Are you serious right now? Lena Luthor, you are—you are the most frustrating, perfect, beautiful person that I’ve ever met, are you seriously saying you didn’t think we…”

Kara’s voice fades into the background as Lena starts to wonder if maybe she does have a point. A smile slowly makes its way across her face and her eyes lose their wide, surprised look as they fasten onto Kara’s mouth and the lips that are still arguing with her.

The lips that she kisses, every night. That she knows no one else does, because she knows Kara.

A thought slowly worms its way into her brain, one that’s as familiar as it is forbidden, and now Kara is looking at her with an incredulous expression.

“What are you smiling at? Are you even listening to me?”

Instead of an answer, Lena steps forward until their faces are an inch apart. It suddenly doesn’t matter that they’re in the middle of Kara’s office, with its glass doors and floor-to-ceiling windows. It doesn’t matter that people are looking at them, attracted by the sound of their usually cheerful boss arguing with the most powerful woman in National City.

Kara is breathing hard, her eyes fastened on a spot above Lena’s chin, and her face is full of fragile hope, but the exasperation is still clear in her eyes.

It certainly doesn’t matter that the phone starts to ring as Lena slides a hand to the back of Kara’s neck, pulling until their lips meet in a soft kiss. It’s not passionate, but it’s warm and full of love and everything that Lena has been meaning to say since Kara took her home from the hospital, and when Kara sighs against her mouth she pulls away, scanning her face nervously.

All she sees is love.

And it’s not the twisted version of love she grew up with. It’s not a dismissive “Good job”, or a demeaning comment on her accomplishments, or the later cheesy movie lines and romantic airplane novels she would hide and devour in a night, staying up with a flashlight under the blankets.

It’s a love that means blue eyes and blonde hair and warm skin greeting her every morning; coffee grinds and laundry day and fighting over the dishes. It’s so much more than she ever thought she would get to experience, and so much more than she thinks she deserves, and its name is Kara Danvers.

“Wow,” Kara says breathlessly, her eyes wide and sparkling with energy. “I guess you were listening.” 

Running a hand down Kara’s arm, Lena twines their fingers together and smiles.

“I guess I was.”

“Are we...dating now?” Kara asks tentatively, in a complete one-eighty from her argument a few seconds before. She’s still a bit dazed from the kiss but she can see that Lena needs some sort of verbal cue and she hurries to give it to her.

Lena nods, the air leaving her lungs in a half-laugh, half-sob. “Yes, Kara. I love you. I love you more than anything in the world and it scares me, and the only way I know how to not be afraid is to be with you.” She leans in again and loses herself in the feel of Kara’s mouth on hers, their mingled breaths filling the space between them.

“So,” Kara whispers as they break apart, “Does this mean you’ll forget about the whole ‘two weeks’ thing?”

“The average lifespan of a woman living in California is 81 years,” Lena says in lieu of answering, and Kara laughs in relief at her girlfriend’s endless stream of trivial facts. “Does that sound like enough time for you?”

It doesn’t. It sounds like a fraction of what she wants, but it doesn’t matter because Lena just _kissed_ her, she said they were _dating_ , and Kara feels like she’s floating. She looks down to make sure her feet are, in fact, on the ground, before answering the brunette.

“It’s a good place to start.”

  
  
  
  
  



End file.
